A Dangerous Game
by Tres Mechante
Summary: There are many types of games, some more dangerous than others. If the players are not careful, someone could get hurt. -COMPLETE- Horatio POV; HC implied


**A Dangerous Game**  
By Très Méchante

**Disclaimer:** CSI: Miami, it's universe and residents to not belong to me in any way, shape or form. The characters have merely been borrowed for my amusement and will be returned none the worse for this little adventure.

**Summary:** There are many types of games, some more dangerous than others. If the players are not careful, someone could get hurt. Horatio POV H/C implied.

**A/N:** This is the second in a series of three stories for Emma's 'A Day In The Life' challenge – also known as the 'Hours' challenge. This story takes place the same days as _Waiting for the Dawn_ (4:00 a.m.) and occurs around 3:00 p.m. I tried to keep them in character. I only hope no one is too far from their true selves, especially Horatio.

* * *

Tensions are running higher than usual today. Everyone is stretched to the limit emotionally and physically. Looking around I recognize team members from different shifts. Regular investigations have to continue while we work The Big One. Double shifts, split shifts and massive overtime are the new norm. A serial rapist has been preying on the city and I will be _damned_ before I let him get away.

My stomach is growling again. A quick look at my watch reveals it's a little after 3:00 in the afternoon. No wonder I'm hungry. I worked through lunch again. Dawn found me in my office going over the case files, looking for something, anything. I change direction and start down the corridor to the break room in search of something to eat and another coffee. How many will that make today, I wonder? On second thought, I do _not_ want to know.

A bright flash out of the corner of my eye suddenly catches my attention. Turning my head I see Calleigh. An involuntary smile tickles my lips at the sight of her. She's in the break room, head bent over a file, those soft supple lips worrying the tip of her pen. _Damn_. Now is _not_ the time for erotic fantasies.

I shift my eyes away from that tempting sight and focus on her companion. Like Calleigh, Speed is sorting through files, eyes narrowed in concentration. I look more closely at him. Speed looks a little better today. Or as well as someone can look after pulling so many long shifts. I've been concerned about him for the past few weeks. Speed did his job, but had been unusually pale and too quiet – even for him. But today...today he seems more settled somehow, as though whatever had been bothering him is now resolved.

I watch them for a moment, the love of my life and the man I call friend. They are focused on the files before them, talking every so often. Speed says something and Calleigh looks up suddenly. Her green eyes are wide and her mouth has dropped open in an expression I recognize as 'I do _not_ believe you just said that!' Speed on the other hand looks like someone bent on mischief. His face appears as impassive as ever but the slight crinkle of his eyes gives him away.

I watch Calleigh grab one of the crumpled pieces of paper from the table and toss it at him. Speed ducks, grabs the paper ball on the rebound and shoots it back to Calleigh, who swats it away. Although I'm not close enough to the break room to do so, I swear I can hear her giggle.

Laughter in the corridor draws my attention away. Eric walks into the break room just in time to catch the ball. He tosses it from hand to hand as he enters the room. Speed, who had gotten a large ruler from somewhere, assumes a batter's stance. Calleigh takes up the back catcher position and Tyler Jensen, who had followed Eric in, takes up the fielder's position.

In the midst of horror, a baseball game has broken out. I can only grin at their antics. I had been concerned for the wellbeing of my team. The stress has been horrific and I know that unless we get a break soon it'll just get worse. I wondered what to do for them, but it seems my resourceful team found their own solution.

"Well, that's a shining example of professionalism. The city is being held hostage and your team is playing games," comes a most unwelcome voice from behind me.

Stetler. Just what I don't need. I take a calming breath, willing anything other than polite indifference from my expression and voice. Without turning around I acknowledge him. "Rick."

Reluctantly taking my eyes from the break room, I turn to look at him. My nemesis. "Is there a problem?"

Stetler looks like he just swallowed a lemon. "There is a serial rapist on the loose. The only suspect we've been able to identify has been cleared. And your team is behaving like a bunch of rowdy kids. Yeah, I'd say there's a problem."

It is one thing to come after me, but my team is off limits. Hands on hips, I meet his stare without flinching. My anger runs hot but my voice is soft when I answer. "Those 'rowdy kids' as you call them have put their personal lives on hold working this case." My patience is coming to an end. "I don't know if you fully appreciate this, Rick, but immersing oneself in the psychology of evil, in the quest to stop it's spread takes a toll on the human spirit. If my team is to do their job--"

"Then they need to be focused."

Once again I swallow my irritation. Drawing myself up to my full height I look him straight in the eye. "Well, now, in _that_ we are in full agreement."

"Then I guess that means you're going to remind your team of their priorities."

I have had more than enough. "That game started spontaneously and it will no doubt end the same way. But yes, I will go to the break room."

"To break up the game?"

I can feel my lips twitch ever so slightly, but fight the grin. "Not just yet. You see, Rick, I haven't had _my_ turn at bat yet."

Walking down the hall toward the break room I can feel his eyes boring into me. His voice follows me. "You're playing a dangerous game, Horatio." I refuse to acknowledge that I heard him. There will come a day when we will deal with this, but not now.

I stand in the doorway to the break room and am ignored by everyone except Calleigh. She walks over to me with a smile.

"So who is winning," I ask.

She laughs. "You know, I don't think anyone has actually been keeping score."

Eric calls out, "Cal, you're up."

"Coming." She moves back to the group, but then stops and turns toward me. She fumbles with her watch...I am mesmerized by the movements of her fingers. "Here you go." She reaches out to hand me her watch. "Hold that for me would you? I think it's interfering with my game."

The others hoot at that but Calleigh is unfazed by it. I hold out my hand for the watch, but she does not release it. "Calleigh? Are you okay?" She has a faraway look in her eyes as she stares at the watch. I know that look. It means...

"He's got a replica!" I'm not quite sure what she's talking about, but Speed catches on immediately. He grabs one of the files from the table and flips through it.

"Here. The victim described the watch in detail, but when we examined the suspect's watch--"

"No physical evidence of the crime." Calleigh concluded. "And no evidence of the damage described by at least three of the victims."

"The main thing everyone remembers is his watch. But there is no damage like they describe," says Speed. "So the guy hands over his expensive heirloom watch knowing we won't find anything because--"

I see where they are going with this. "He wears a duplicate when he's on the prowl. Which means there is another watch undoubtedly loaded with evidence."

Tyler slips past me with a cup of coffee. "I'll leave you to it. You know where to find me."

Eric grabs the folders and heads out. "I've got the statements, H. I'll compare to make sure everything jibes."

I turn to Speed. "All right, Speed, this is what we're going to do. First, call Tripp and have him put a rush on a search warrant. Then go with him to the scene. I'll meet you there. I'm going to have to update the mayor."

"You got it." I watch a moment as he strides down the corridor before turning to Calleigh.

"Nice catch on the watch."

"Well, we don't know it'll pan out yet," she demurs.

"I have every confidence in you," I tell her. And I mean it. She is as intelligent as she is beautiful.

"Get your things together and head for the house. Make sure no one moves until we have the warrant. This has to be done by the numbers, but we won't have much time once news of this breaks."

She looks doubtful. "You think word will leak out before we can get there?"

"This is no longer just a criminal investigation, Calleigh. It is now a political hot potato and a media feeding frenzy. Yes, someone somewhere will let slip about the warrant so we have to be ready to move in before he has a chance to hide or destroy the evidence."

I give a smile as I turn to leave, but know it is pale imitation of the smile I usually reserve for her. Unfortunately she does not miss that fact.

In a quiet voice she asks "Everything okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Answering a question with a question is never a good sign, Handsome," she chides. "I, uh, saw you talking to Stetler earlier. He didn't look too happy."

The last thing I want is for Calleigh to worry. "It's the nature of his job. He looks for the worst in everyone."

"And he's looking at you."

I duck my head slightly in acknowledgement, although my eyes remain fixed on hers. "He'll either find what he wants to find or he'll find nothing of consequence." I smile reassuringly as I add "There's nothing to worry about, Beautiful. Trust me on this. Everything will be fine."

Calleigh smiles at that. "See you later?" she asks.

"Absolutely. Come by around 8:00 or so and we'll have dessert."

"Goody. What's for dessert?" she asks in the playful tone I so adore.

I can't help myself. I lean towards her and the pitch of my voice drops. "Well, actually, I was thinking perhaps...you..." she gasps as I pause before continuing "...might bring something special. I'll provide the coffee."

Calleigh looks up at me, eyes wide. She chokes back a laugh as she says, "You are such a tease, Horatio Caine." I almost purr at those words, her accent thickened ever so slightly in a way that makes my spine tingle.

"Let's go catch the bad guy," I tell her.

**--FIN--**


End file.
